


You Will Shine at Your Best

by TrenchcoatRats



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22078183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrenchcoatRats/pseuds/TrenchcoatRats
Summary: In between Along Came a Spider and Megatron Rising, Blackarachnia finds herself with a night to spend all by herself. It's surprisingly the best night she's had in a very long time.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	You Will Shine at Your Best

At times like this, with the chill of the night moving through her, with hardly any illumination from the moon, and not a living creature in sight, Blackarachnia can almost say that she enjoys Earth. It’s too cold and too early for humans and Autobots alike to be out, she has this field all to herself. When she looks around her, she sees the lights of Detroit, dimmed but ever present. If she looks up, the clouds in the night sky obscure her optics’ instinctive draw towards Cybertron, hides almost every star up there. Aside from the background drone of insects she is, for all intents and purposes, entirely alone. She hasn’t had the chance to be truly alone, alone and left in peace, for so long. 

When it’s warmer and during the day, the city screams with the noises of daily life. Even if she’s granted the reprieve of being in the vicinity of organic life by being with her fellow Decepticons, they’re all just as loud, making up in numbers with their overwhelming volume. But they still can’t hold a candle to Sentinel when he wanted to make his voice heard across all of Cybertron from where he was at. She decidedly tries to overlook that thought, to envision Sentinel as if he was another star behind the clouds, as if even the clouds could hide that chin of his. She snorts at that, setting her thoughts on the past to the side before hindsight could sour her mood. 

She lays down on the soft grass, choosing to lay on her side rather than maneuvering around her back, exhaling once she was comfortable. Her breath comes out as a small cloud to her surprise. Blackarachnia stares as it disappears before trying it again. Another cloud comes out of her mouth before disappearing into the cold air around her. A chill runs through her as a breeze comes through. She shouldn’t be out here for too long, in case her systems react poorly to the continued exposure to the cold, but she can’t bring herself to truly care about that. She doubts that she’ll get this much time to be alone in peace after this, so she wants to appreciate it while she can.

Another breeze comes through, this one noticeably harsher. As it dies down, Blackarachnia notices the slight clouding of her optics. Almost as soon as she notices it, it disappears, but it had seemed like small spots had appeared. Nothing large and obviously nothing damaging or of any significance, but she still finds herself wondering about it as she turns her gaze back up at the sky.

She’s almost instantly greeted by the answer to the cause of the aberration, it seems like more of those small spots are coming above her. There’s so many of them that it’s impossible to keep sight of them all and if they reach the ground, it’s hard to see given just how small they are. If it weren’t for the sensitivity of her spider-half, she wouldn’t be at all sure if the little flurries could even be felt. It’s a brief sensation, hardly noticeable at all except for the temperature contrast.

She sticks a hand out, watching the little flakes fall into her hand and melt almost instantly. Her organic side keeps her outside temperature warm enough that the snow can’t cling on. It’s...nice, really, enjoyable to watch them fall and feel their so light touch on her. They aren’t heavy enough, or falling fast enough for them to gather in her hands, but she imagines for a moment her hands and the ground covered in the flurries, as if they were a white shroud to smother and hide all of her from herself and the universe. In their embrace, nothing organic could exist, let alone thrive. 

The thought does not bring her any happiness and she drops her hand back to the ground. It’s a fantasy that seems further and further away each solar cycle, as far off as a future where she would let Optimus and Sentinel even entertain the notion of regaining her trust. Thinking about either now, when she can’t do anything to change her situation isn’t productive in the least in the long term and only disrupts her peace in the short term. As much as she can, it’s better to shelve her thoughts and feelings for another time. She’ll examine her thoughts when she has the resources she needs on hand and continue to ignore her feelings.

The cloud coverage breaks for a moment, letting the moon’s light shine clearly through. It’s gentler than the overwhelming light from the human city, darker and softer in a way that suits this weather, in a way that seems to suit her. At night, there’s no one around, no one for her to see and no one to see her. The solitude is one that she had never thought she would welcome, but it’s ever appealing. To wage internal war with herself and her concept of identity is frustrating enough without acknowledging that others have their own unwanted ideas of who and what she is. 

But in this quiet moment, with the world around her with its subdued ambience, she doesn’t think about that. Her time where she could have loved Earth, at its loudest and at its quietest and most peaceful, has passed many stellar cycles ago. Despite all that’s changed and all that she’s become, she thinks she does enjoy Earth after all. At least, for now. 

The flakes continue to fall and Blackarachnia looks up at the stars momentarily and smiles. For the rest of this time to herself, she watches as they slowly gather and begin to cover the ground around her, dusting them off of her occasionally to watch them fall in such a large pile. It’s fun to watch, more fun still to run her hand along the piles when they’ve gotten big enough and make little shapes. 

At first, they’re very simple, but then she starts making more elaborate creations. A miniature Starscream, Sentinel’s chin, and a very rough version of her own altmode. After she’d spent more than enough time looking at the combined egos, she smashes the molds of Starscream and Sentinel, but leaves the spider. It may not look much like her, but the “artistic liberty” was endearing that way.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays to jailbirddraws and everyone who's reading! I hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
